


Artistic License

by SherlockDreadsNaught



Category: Fandom - Fandom, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Celebrities, Celebrity Crush, M/M, Sherlock (TV) RPF - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-01-08 06:53:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockDreadsNaught/pseuds/SherlockDreadsNaught
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes I like to think of other ways people could meet. For example, if Martin Freeman wasn't an actor, what's one scenario for him to meet Benedict Cumberbatch?  I've read so many accounts about how very kind and sweet Benedict is to his fans that I got to thinking that maybe faces do become familiar to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have taken some liberties with dates of premieres of the movie, Star Trek Into Darkness, so forgive me! Enjoy!

 

Ben's eyes popped open and he fairly sprang out of bed. Today was the London premiere of Star Trek Into Darkness, and in just a few hours he would be re-united with the entire cast plus JJ Abrams, not to mention a few thousand rabid fans.  A mob scene for sure, as it had been in every city they'd been to so far, but London was HIS turf and he'd feel right at home, maybe he'd even hear a few cheers.  That would be kind of nice, especially after the Los Angeles premiere and people acting like he was some sort of newbie.  Ben let his mind roam, trying to prepare for the onslaught of fans, noise, media, and more fans.  In that sea of faces, he wondered, would he see THAT face??

****************

The alarm went off and Martin cast off the covers, rising almost in a panic. 3 AM already? Had he actually been sleeping?  He must have been, or he would have caught the alarm before it went off.  He showered, ate, packed his snacks, pulled on the clothes he had laid out the night before and off he went, almost reverently carrying an mid-sized art portfolio.  He would probably beat his buddies to the venue, but he had a mission and he didn't care how early he got there or how long he'd have to wait.  Clutching the portfolio, he felt his nerves start to get just a bit jangled. Yes, he had a mission because the vision in his head had translated nicely onto canvas, and the end result was astounding. He had a 12x15 photo of the canvas to get signed, and the original was going to be placed into the hands of the subject himself, or so Martin hoped.

***************

Almost as soon as Ben emerged from the limo, he started waving at the fans, scanning the massive crowd. So many people, quite possibly--he wasn't sure--the largest throng yet at a premiere.  When he glanced up the length of the red carpet he could see Zachary Quinto and Chris Pine doing exactly what he was doing: smiling, waving, posing, stopping here and there to sign autographs.  The throng was at least 15 people deep, and more in some spots. How would he ever spot one person? If indeed that person was there, because what if he wasn't??  But, Ben chided himself, all of the cards he had gotten through his publicist had said he would be at the Into Darkness premiere.  Ben so adored the finely drawn cards that he had instructed his PR staff to keep an eye out for that return address, if indeed calligraphied initials could be called that, and to make sure the cards were handed to him.  He was pretty certain he knew who was making and sending the unique cards.

**************

Martin and his fellow artsy buddies had arrived at the site of the Into Darkness premiere that they had their choice of where to stake their claim to watch the red carpet and all the media happenings.  Added to their luck was the fact that one of the guys setting things up had told them where the stars would be gathering and posing the most. The four of them decided they'd lay claim to the barriers--the very front frikken row they kept exclaiming--just before the area roped off for the media.

Try as he might, Martin found himslf checking his watch often. Two hours to go.....ninety minutes to go....sixty minutes......And to add to his agony, he heard periodic cheers that indicated the arrival of a limo and the dispatching of yet another actor.  The big stars of STID would come first, and he and his pals did have some items for them to sign.  However, Martin knew that when the subject of his artwork approached, he'd ditch whatever he had for the others to sign in a heartbeat!

*************

Oh my Lord, Ben thought, this is like trying to find a needle in a massive, moving haystack!  The north side of the street, that was what the last card had said, OK, so....was this the north side? What if he'd missed him while signing on the other side, because they had to work both sides of the red carpet to be fair to the fans.  He tried to act casual as he approached each swarm of fans, but in reality he was studying faces. And then...he saw him! In fact, their eyes met, they smiled simultaneously and they waved at each other.  Yes, north side AND right at the barrier by the media. Perfect!

*************

Martin's heart nearly lept right out of his chest.  Benedict Cumberbatch was not only approaching his location, but he had seen him, had SMILED and had WAVED!! At him?! As Ben paused to speak to some fans and sign a few magazines, Martin looked around. No, the media types hadn't focused on Ben yet, and there was only his three buddies between his spot and the media.  Oh my God, had Ben ACTUALLY waved at HIM??  And that smile, was that meant for him too? OK, OK, get ready, this might have to be really fast...

"Hi Benedict, I have something for you but would you mind singing this first please?"

"Hi, Martin isn't it? I've gotten all of your cards and I love the artwork. What is this, this is fanatastic, where'd you get this??"

They both laughed because they had just babbled rapidly at each other simultaneously.  Ben signalled to his handler to wait before ushering him to join some of the other actors from the movie.  "It is Martin, right?" He accepted a Sharpie and paused before signing the photo. When Martin nodded, Ben went on, "Did you do this? You do amazing work. Wow...morphing me from Sherlock into...John Harrison!"

"I...I think I dreamed the piece, actually."  Martin blushed. Why did he say THAT?? "And I couldn't get the vision of it out of my head." He held up the portfolio he'd been hanging on to.  "And this is for you, I'd like you to have it."

Ben opened it to see what was inside and broke into an even bigger grin. "The original? I am honored! You're always giving me something, even if it's throat lozenges or gum! And I really do have all of the cards you've sent to me.  Listen, Karon here will take this for me. Make sure your address and mobile number is on the back, so it can't get lost."  While Martin was writing, Ben leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "Must run, luv, but you haven't seen the last of me!"

**************

One morning in mid-June, Martin's mobile rang, showing a number he didn't recognize.  "Hello, is this Martin Freeman? Martin, hi, this is Arwel Wyn Jones, creative designer for the BBC show Sherlock. I understand you are quite a talented artist, and you come personally recommended by Benedict Cumberbatch. How would you like to work on Sherlock? I could sure use your creativity!"

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benedict needs help with his lines, and Martin is done for the day so he steps in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many many liberties have been taken, again, with the timeline of certain events. It just made more sense to have to replace the actor playing John at the start of the 2nd season.
> 
> Many thanks to Ariane Devere for her transcript of A Scandal in Belgravia. I could not have started this chapter off as I did without her web site!
> 
> http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/26320.html

Late afternoon, sunshine still warm, only a few of the grips and assistants still on the job checking lights, running cables, checking their lists and notes as they prepared for the next day's sequence of scenes to be filmed.  The fans who had gathered across the street were gone, the block was almost back to business as usual, just being another thoroughfare.  Two figures sat across from each other at one of the small picnic tables, their attention on stapled sheaths of paper, their voices low but animated.

 "So, what’s the plan?"

 "We know her address."

 "What, just ring her doorbell?"

 "Exactly.  Just here, please."

 "You didn’t even change your clothes."

"Then it’s time to add a splash of colour."

 "Are we here?"

"Two streets away, but this’ll do."

"For what?"

" Punch me in the face."

Martin stopped reading aloud, re-read what he had just said and let out a chuckle.  "Are you kidding me?  John gets to hit Sherlock? You gonna let him?"

Ben sat back, also re-reading the short segment of script they'd just gone over. "Oh yeah, it's gonna be great!! Stage punch of course, but I want to do this one myself, I mean, why not? Then look, John keeps beating him up!"  Ben pointed to the action on the next page of the script.  "keep reading!"

Punch you?"

"Yes. Punch me, in the face.  Didn’t you hear me?"

" I  _always_  hear ‘punch me in the face’ when you’re speaking, but it’s usually sub-text."

"Oh, for God’s sakes."

This time Martin had to stop reading because he was laughing so hard.  "No way...I always hear punch me in the face but it's usually SUB-TEXT???? I get the very odd...ahem... idea this episode is pretty funny! I mean, Arwel had one of the runners go out and buy a few king-sized white sheets and he said SHERLOCK wears them?? I mean, in pulic?!!"

"Oh yes, this is going to be grand!!! Moffat has outdone himself on this one! Romance, drama, intrigue, and comedy. I just need to get this script pounded into my adled brain. It's really helping me, having you sit and read with me." Ben flashed a grin at Martin, who actully blushed a bit and then went back to skimming the script.  "Yep, John gets to let out his frustrations with Sherlock, that's how I look at it."

"Ummm yeah....he tackles Sherlock, if I'm reading this correctly."

"Good thing I played rugby!" Ben snickered and winked at Martin.

"Oh yeah, good! OK soooo....John says I  _always_  hear ‘punch me in the face’ when you’re speaking, but it’s usually sub-text..."

"Right, then Sherlock gets exasperated..Oh for God's sake...and smacks John in the face."

 "Ow!"  
  
"Thank you. That was – that was ..." Ben runs a finger down the page to his next line.  "OK, so John tackles me...oh he gets to strangle me, and my line is: Okay! I think we’re done now, John."

"You wanna remember, Sherlock: I was a soldier. I killed people!"

"You were a doctor!"

"I had bad days!!"

 

It was early on the set of Sherlock, with crew members arriving and getting their assignments for the day.  Mark Gatiss loved these quiet times, it allowed him time to think and plan, as well as rehearse if his character was slotted to be in any scenes.  As he strolled along the street, he absentmindedly returned the greetings of anyone who called out to him.  While some might think his expression looked a bit vacant, those who knew him well would spot the signs that he was actually in his creative zone, that something had taken hold of his thoughts and wasn't about to let go.  The show he had helped bring to life, Sherlock, was a huge hit, no doubt about it, but he and co-creator Steven Moffat had been handed a big curve ball at the end of the previous week's filming.  He hated getting bad news on a Friday, and this piece of "bad news" he was certain had purposefully been sprung on them late in the day on Friday.  They suddenly had no John Watson.  The actor portraying him, Jamison Reynolds, had had his agent contact them to inform them he was leaving the show in order to pursue "other interests."  Mark snorted derisively as he walked.  "Other interests" he was pretty sure meant that someone had convinced Jamison to jump to another project, perhaps his own TV show or maybe a movie role.  At any rate, Mark and Steven had spent hours over the weekend trying to come up with an apt replacement.  Well, Mark mused, funny how sometimes the solution hands itself to you, how it comes out of the most unexpected, unlikely quarters.

"Steven!" Mark called out to co-creator Steven Moffat, whom he knew was on the set today top help break the news about the Watson problem and the fact that it might mean some production delays. "Steven, please do join me in some tea. Is Sue going to be here soon?"

Ahh, good morning!  Yes, she ought to be here any minute now...and....OK, what's up? I know that look on your face, Mark!"

"Well, we may have a solution for Watson, but let's wait for Sue, shall we?"  He accepted a hot cup of tea from one of the assistants and sat at one of the tables in front of Speedy's. He cast a sly grin at Steven, "I have something you need to hear."

Before Steven could react, his wife Sue Vertue, one of the show's producers, arrived carrying a couple of small, white paper bags.  "Traffic is wretched!" she huffed as she joined the two men at the table.  "Here you go, eat while it's..." Her voice trailed off when she saw how her husband was looking at Mark. "Oh dear Lord, don't tell me we have more news to deal with!"

"No, well, I don't know. Mark here was just saying I need to hear something.  Go on, Mark!"

"I stayed on a bit yesterday to do some writing, and I overheard Ben reading his lines. More precisely, I overheard Sherlock and John acting out one of the scenes in Scandal."  He sat back, beaming and steepling his fingers before his face, looking oh so smug.

"What are ye talkin' about? Did Jamison come back??" Steven's Scottish accent always got more pronounced when he was excited or agitated.

"Oh no, this was something much MUCH better than Jamison ever was in the role."  Mark was by now grinning from ear to ear. "An undiscovered talent, I should think, but someone who's been on the set for a while and who definitly KNOWS Sherlock."

"WHO??" Steven and Sue both persisted.

Mark glanced around and spotted Arwel, yakking away as usual, with Martin in tow. "Right there...Martin Freeman.  What I heard, what I saw, it was...exquisite!!"

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin just cannot believe his ears. Audition? For the part of John Watson? But he's just part of the design team!

Ben sat listening to the recording that Mark Gatiss had made, of himself and Martin reading through the script the previous afternoon.  Uncut and unedited, with all of their side comments and chuckles intact.  When they had been reading, Ben had liked how easily it had all flowed.  Listening to this very rough recording that Mark had done, he was somewhat astounded to hear how he was delivering Sherlock's line--the precision and the cadence was more natural sounding, and the give and take was unmistakable.  Now he was also listening to how Martin was delivering the lines, and he soon realized that his grin was nearly as huge as Mark's was.

"Well?" Mark queried when the rough recording ended.

Sue and Steven sat gape-mouthed, still staring at Mark's mobile, then Sue just stared at Ben while Steven lifted his gaze to Mark, a grin of his own forming. "Un-be-lievable!!!"  He twisted on his perch to look at Ben. "Did you HEAR that? Did you hear yourself??  Ben, you are good as Sherlock but what I just heard...that was GREAT!"

"What were you two doing?" Sue asked.

Ben beamed at the three producers. "I was just taking advantage of how quiet it was and I was reading the script. Martin happened by and asked what I was doing, and then he asked if he could help in any way, so I got him a script and we were just reading it."

"JUST reading it?" Steven almost fell off of his perch. "Ben! That was without a doubt Sherlock Holmes! OK, Mark, this is possibly the craziest idea you have ever, ever hatched.  Hire a no-name to play John Watson? Can he even act?"

Getting caught up in the moment, Sue interrupted. "Ben, what do you know about Martin?"

"Ummmmmmmm, well...he is a fan of the show, I mean, that's how I met him.  I'd run into him, hell, he was always giving me something, like if I was coughing he had throat lozenges, and if I needed a pen he'd have one I could use. Oh yes, and he is an artist. Really amazing too, I think. That's why I got him working with Arwel, because he's very creative."

"Yes, OK, good you can vouch for him, but what we need to know is, can he ACT?"

 

"You want me to...what??" Martin puffed his cheeks. "You want me to read this with Ben...."

"Yes, exactly," said Mark, looking ever so slightly like a shark. "We'd like to watch and listen. If we may."

Martin could feel his face begin to pink and he looked down at the pages in his hands. At least it was the funny punch me in the face segment, something he knew, but why did they want him to read it? He stole a glance at Ben, who was smiling hopefully.  "Did you.....?" He stage whispered towards Ben.

"No, no, I swear! I had no idea anyone was listening to us yesterday!" Ben stepped closer and leaned down to whisper in Martin's ear. "I heard the recording, it blew me away. Give it a try? For me?"

Martin puffed his cheeks again and then pursed his lips. "Well....OK...I guess...I mean, what can happen, right?"

Ben winked at him and rubbed his back gently. "Let's just do it like we did yesterday, only..."

"Yep, yep, only in front of people."  Martin straightened his posture and cleared his throat.  "OK, let's do this!"

"Good, now just follow my lead, and at least pretend to take a swing at me. Let's get a little movement in to this and....what are you doing with your script?

Martin tossed aside the offending pages. "I think I know it well enought to do this, besides you said to get some movement into it and I can't do that hanging on to papers!!"

"Oh. OK, fine, I've got this too!" Ben laid his pages aside. "OK then, here we go!"

 

"So, what’s the plan?" John frowned as he looked at Sherlock.

"We know her address." Came the matter-of-fact response.

 What, just ring her doorbell?" Scowling by now.

"Exactly.  Just here, please." Sherlock addresses the cabbie and jumps out of the back seat.

"You didn’t even change your clothes." John gave a gesture in Sherlock's direction, rolling his eyes.

"Then it’s time to add a splash of colour." Sherlock whips off his scarf.

"Are we here?" John looks around, totally puzzled.

"Two streets away, but this’ll do." Sherlock turns to face the puzzled John.

"For what?" John is still looking arond, and then scowls at Sherlock.

"Punch me in the face." Sherlock braces himself.

"Punch you?" Hands on hips, takes a step backwards.

"Yes. Punch me, in the face.  Didn’t you hear me?" Sherlock gestures towards the left side of his face, exasperated tone to his voice.

"I always hear ‘punch me in the face’ when you’re speaking, but it’s usually sub-text." John is now nose-to-nose with Sherlock, not backing down.

“Oh for God's sake!”  Sherlock throws a punch, connects, startling John.

"Ow!" John grabs his face and comes up swinging wildly.

"Thank you. That was – that was ... Okay! I think we’re done now, John."  Sherlock touches the area on his cheek where John connected, decides it's OK but doesn't notice how enraged John is. Big mistake.

"You wanna remember, Sherlock: I was a soldier. I killed people!"  John jumps Sherlock, half on his back. arms around his neck, choking him.

"You were a doctor!"  Sherlock gasps.

"I had bad days!!"  John is really enraged now.

 

"OK, cut! Stop, stop!" Steven interrupted the scene.  Ben and Martin stopped wrestling and looked at him.  "Martin Freeman, have you ever acted?"

Martin glanced at Ben, who was grinning his lopsided grin and looking at the both of them in turn. "Some, in upper level and at uni..."

"Boys, you have to see this. Obviously it's very rough camera work provided by moi," Mark butted in, "but you MUST see this! It's a very short scene but I do think we have some chemistry going on."

Ben, Martin, Sue, Mark and Steven all gathered around the monitor to watch the scene unfold. Steven was nodding, Sue was mouthing the words, Mark was grinning broadly.  When it ended, Ben stood up, fairly dancing, and Martin just sat dumb-founded, eyes glued to the now-blank screen. "I...I...was that OK? I mean, I didn't want to hit Ben, or hurt him by jumping on him..."

"My boy," beamed Mark, "all trifling details, and I am sure you will be a fast learn. Your delivery was excellent, your movements were solid and believable, and your expressions!! Oh my, your face told the tale!  Obviously we need to see some more but....well, I'm sold, and I can tell Benedict is as well, judging by how he as Sherlock reacted to John."

 

Supper break rolled around and Ben and Martin gravitated towards the same table and sat side by side. "Thanks...I think!" Martin smiled shyly at the taller man. "I mean, Christ, first you got me a job on the design team, and now I'm going to be John Watson??"  He bit into his tuna melt and chewed appreciatively. "I am starving, I had no idea doing all of this acting stuff would leave me famished!"

"Thank yourself, Martin," Ben purred as he poked at his panini. "you are an amazing artist, AND you can act! Stop being so modest."

"Umm, no..." Martin wiped his mouth "I was only following your lead, trying to imagine this army doctor dealing with this big goofy twit....Oh gawd, I am so sorry, I wasn't referring to YOU!! I meant Sherlock, and you were playing him differently somehow. I liked it!"

Ben toyed with his tossed salad before he responded. "It...felt...better, it felt right.  Jamison had his moments, but I just never felt like I did going through all of those scenes today.  You really made me raise my game, alot!"

Martin felt himself blush and wondered if he'd ever NOT blush when Ben said something complimentary.  "I just...how can you say that? You are so good!" Oh yeah, the blush was now out of control.

Ben pretended to bow. "I don't care how good an actor is, he or she really must have someone to play off of. Otherwise it's just a running monologue. You I can play off of quite well, I can feel it already. Now YOU they want in wardrobe and I need to go talk to Mark about a scene he and I have coming up so I shall see you later!"

When Ben stood, he reached for his little tray and empty glass at the same time Martin reached for another serviette.  Their hands brushed, time slowed down, and then the moment was over.  But both men felt the tingle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, any and all portions of the script came from the transcript on this web site
> 
> http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/26320.html


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin suddenly realizes he's a star!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the delay in getting back to any of my works! My summer work schedule pretty much left me no real time to write. Back to my "normal" schedule so hopefully the writing will pick up!

"Are you kidding me? You've got to be kidding...." Martin Freeman was muttering to himself as his car rounded the corner on to Gower Street, which was now bearing a placard that said Baker Street.  Several hundred people, mostly young, female and waving or using camera phones were behind barricades across the street from where the driver was stopping.  Hesitantly he emerged from the car, though on the curb side, not on the fan side. One of the production assistants greeted him and handed him several types pages, saying they were script revisions, and that hair and make-up were awaiting him.

"Hullo...oh sorry!" Ben was already seated, with two women carefully working on his hair and a third, the one he'd apologized to, was applying foundation to his skin.  She pretended to glare and tsk tsk at him when he spoke to Martin.

Martin grabbed some tea before he sat down. "Did you see the crowd?  What is that all about? How are we going to film in front of them?"  He paused while one of the make-up assistants put a cape over his clothing.  "I mean...seriously?"

Ben waited until the woman working on his face nodded, looking satisfied with her work, or almost satisfied. "Oh no, Margie, give me that mascara!!  Well, Danny said that there was quite a crowd here when he arrived, which was probably 6 or 6:30.  Mark says let them stay and Sue thinks we should go over and work the crowd."

"Oh nice...wait...what?? US?"  Martin sputtered into his tea.  "Is she crazy?  Well, no one would want to see me, so you go on over.  I'll stay on this side and listen to all the screams and do a body count as they faint!"

Ben leaned forward and carefully flicked a light layer of mascara onto his upper lashes, both eyes. He winked and blew a kiss, then handed the tube back to Margie before he turned back to face Martin.  "You know the first teaser with you in it aired last night, right? Prime time, and several times, all evening?"

"Well, yeah, Mark told me the plan..."

"And you saw it?"

"I will...never...get used to watching myself, Ben. And I know, it was on BBC, so the whole bloody nation saw it. Hell, even my brothers tuned in to see it."

"And?"

"And? And what?"

"What did they think of it?" Ben lowered his voice conspiratorially, and leaned towards Martin, to the chagrin of Margie who was about to touch up his curly hair.

"Tim was practically screaming over the phone, Ben kept saying how proud he was, and Jamie actually drove over to make sure I was recording it. Laura was at Mum's--they were all in tears, she said."  

"In a good way, I trust!"

"You knob, of course in a good way!"  Martin grabbed for whatever he could reach from the makeup table, only to have the hairbrush he'd scored removed from his grip before he could throw it.  The two makeup artists descending upon him chided him jokingly about not hurting the star of the show, leave that to them for when he actually misbehaved.

Ben just grinned and downed the last bite of his egg sandwich.  "Steven called me last night. Apparently there was almost instant feedback from the very first airing, all positive. You, my very short friend, are going to be a star!"

"Short fr....I am not SHORT!"

"Oh sorry, that's right--your legs do touch the ground."

"Ben."  Martin was interrupted by an assistant applying some foundation to his face. "Ben. Just shut it. Shut it now, or I will be forced to use my karate on you."

"You can't reach me."

"When I get out of this chair, you had better pray Steven Moffat loves you enough to save your smarmy arse from me kicking it all the way down the street."

"Your legs are so short, you'd have trouble even reaching that high to kick..."

"BEN!"

 

"All right, gentlemen, Steven and Sue and I need to look over these rushes, so why don't you go calm the savage beasts and approach your fans?"  Mark was still in Mycroft mode from the scene they had just shot, so his tone was lofty and he actually pointed with his brolly.  "The guards will go with you, just to be on the safe side."

Ben nodded agreeably and shrugged out of the Belstaff, handing it to one of the costumers, and then he swiped at each lapel on his jacket, grinning rakishly at Martin.  "Come on now, time to meet the adoring public. I'm sure you remember those days, old chap?"

Martin put his hands on his hips, tapped his foot, and pressed his lips together, trying to look upset. "You, ya string bean, are in rare form today, you know that?  You are really asking for it."

"Oh really?  Let's see, you threw 16 karates chops at me this morning alone, you've made me forget my lines five times..."

"I have nothing to do with you forgetting your lines!"

"Yes you do....you're just too cute for your own good and my brain short-circuits."

"Oh bloody hell, will you just get across the street?"  Martin could no longer supress the grin as he grabbed Ben and spun him around, giving him a little push to get him moving. "Counting karate chops, really? Is that what your arse is getting paid to do?"

"No, well actually, yes maybe. It seems once you've thrown enough of them, you actually get your lines right and then we can actually get scenes filmed."

"You, sir, are a total git. Now start signing; I'm just going to stand here and pretend I'm your body guard...NO short person comments!!"

"No, I was just going to say..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I can guard your body any time."

 

A late lunch found Ben and Martin sharing a table, but eating in relative silence.  They had worked most of the crowd gathered on the other side of Gower Street, about 150 fans of all ages and descriptions. True to his word, Martin started out just standing near Ben, watching, but it wasn't long before fans were asking for his autograph, or to take photos of him, or to have a photo taken with him.  His initial reaction had been one of disbelief, to the point of asking Ben if he should sign and pose.  Ben's response had been to throw an arm around his shoulders and ask the fans if they had seen the teaser on TV the night before.  They all cheered, every one of them, and had spontaneouisly applauded Martin, who turned quite pink despite the makeup he was wearing.  After that, he and Ben had stood side by side, posing, signing, and talking to the fans.

"You okay?" Ben said quietly as he finished his water.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, I was just thinking."

"About...?"

"About the fact that not all that long ago, I was one of them, one of the fans, on the other side of the barrier. Oh God, that sounded dumb. I mean, I wasn't standing there screaming and crying for you to come talk to me..."

"I know."

"I was one of them, Ben, I was a FAN...and now I'm your....co-star.  I think it just hit me, just when we were signing for those fans."

"Welcome to Sherlock. Your life will never be the same." Ben gazed into Martin's eyes, and lifted one of his hands to his lips in order to plant a small kiss on the back of it.  "But you know what?  It feels so right having you stand beside me out there."  They leaned towards each other and pressed their foreheads together, no more words needed at that moment.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben is always late, it's just a bad habit of his!

"Ben!"

"Yes, yes!"

"BEN!! Now please!"

"Hang on, I'm almost ready!" THUD

"Are you OK?"

"Yep! Yes, yes, fine, just knocked over the chair!" Sounds of rushing around, shoeless, on carpeted floor.

Martin looked at his watch and realized the limo was due to arrive at any moment. "Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch, we are going to be LATE if you don't hurry up," he yelled up the stairs.

"rlx..nvntm....."

"What? Ben, I can't hear you!"  Out of sheer nervousness, Martin looked at his watch again.

Ben peered over the railing, looking a bit flushed and with that one odd strand of curly hair flopping in his face again.  "I said relax, these things never start on time anyway."

"No, this one will be on time because it is being BROADCAST....LIVE!!"

"You're nervous."

"Aren't you? Best Actor, that's....that's grand! That's huge!"

Ben wrinkled his nose and sniffed. "It would be an honour to win, sure, but I'd rather have the show itself win. It's a team effort..."

"I hate to interrupt your musings, but will you just please comb your hair again and get your jacket on? Please??"  Nope, don't look at your watch, Martin thought, so instead he fidgeted with his creamy white, dotted silk tie.  Did Ben have any idea how nervous he really was, first awards show to attend as an actor, but on top of that, a nominee for a BAFTA.  His life had been turned so completely upside down in the past 14 months he could barely believe it himself.  From a fan, a face in the crowd, to working on the creative team for Sherlock, to suddenly being thrust into the role of John Watson, all because of man running around upstairs.  Sometimes he felt as though he needed to pinch himself to make sure it wasn't simply a dream.

Simultaneously the limo pulled up to the kerb and Ben appeared at the top of the stairs, jacket on and buttoned, hair smoothed nicely into place.  He grinned down at Martin, who had just opened his mouth to speak.  "And you thought I'd make us late? Martin, have a little faith! Now, how do I look? I feel like a student under your tuteledge."  He bounded down the steps, and when he reached the bottom he did a modeling turn.  "I must say, this suit is quite nice feeling."

"It fits, that's why it feels so good. It's tailored to you, not just to John Q. Public. OK, yes, you pass inspection, now let's go and not make Wallace come to the door to get us!"  With that, Martin turned on heel and fairly sprinted for the door leading to the stairwell.

"Ooh, if I didn't know better, I'd say someone has the jitters!"

"I don't understand why you don't!  You're up for a huge award!  Or is this craziness just covering for it?"

Ben strode after Martin and caught one of his hands between his own.  "Hey...hey, Martin, relax. I'll be right there beside you, and you know Steven and Sue and Mark will be there too.  We'll all be cheering for you." With that, he planted a light kiss on the back of Martin's hand.  "And when you win, I'll be the first one standing to applaud!"

 

Karon peered out the darkened window of the limo, then she glanced at Martin again. "Luv, stop tugging at your tie, it looks fine. I just adore the fact you went with the little polka dots!"  She patted his hand. "OK then, we will be pulling up to the red carpet in a few minutes. Ben will get out first, Martin, to draw in the crowd, then you'll get out.  Ben, if you help him out, you might as well scream 'we're a couple' to the press.  I'm getting out on this side--no, Martin, you get out on that side, after Ben.  I've been assured there is lots of security and someone will meet us to escort us to our seats."  She peered out again, then turned and smiled. "All right then, this is it, gentlemen!"

As the limo pulled up there was a momentary lull as the throng seemed to collectively lean forward in anticipation of the identity of the new arrivals.  When Ben popped out with a huge grin on his face, the press started setting off flashes and racking off as many frames per second as their cameras would allow.  He waved excitedly, grin plastered to his face, and standing as though to shield Martin just a bit as he exited the limo.  True to her word, Karon got out on the other side and immediately took charge of the two of them as they began a stuttering stroll down the red carpet, waving at this person, greeting that person, stopping here and there for a fast interview. The whole time they were moving, the cameras were flashing, reporters were yelling questions, and fans were screaming.  Without having discussed it, the two of them worked opposite side of the walkway, switching back and forth, until finally Ben stopped which forced Martin to run right into him.  Glancing up at the taller man, Martin opened his mouth to say excuse me, and instead felt his jaw drop a bit as Ben put an arm around him possessively.  That one simple action brought a renewed flurry of flashing cameras and questions, but instead of answering, Ben simply took Martin's hand in his and led him to the open doors where Karon and their guide were waiting.

 

"You're still grinning like a loon."  Martin popped a Mentos into his mouth and offered one to Ben, who took it and promptly started chewing on it.  "And poor Karon has been on her phone since we got in here. Are you happy with yourself?"  Instead of answering, Ben just winked at him and then gave a giggle over the exasperated sound that escaped Martin's  lips. "You are incorrigable!"

"Now you sound like my mother..."

"Someone needs to keep you in line!"  Martin dug his elbow into Ben's side and he nodded his head. "Let Steven and Sue in!"

Like a jack-in-the-box, Ben sprang from his seat and shook Steven's hand and exchanged kisses on both cheeks with Sue.  "This is our row, the winner's row!"

"Hello, hello!" Mark came striding up, with Ian in tow. "My goodness, Ben, I hear you broke Twitter again!"  As everyone exchanged handshakes and air kisses, Mark pulled Ben aside.  "I thought you two had decided not to go public just yet.  I mean, did I hear correctly--you just latched onto him out on the red carpet, in front of the last set of press and photographers? And then you gave a jaunty wave and just walked on in without answering their questions?"

"I don't recall the jaunty wave part."

"Ben, you know what I mean."

"Guilty as charged, what can I say?"

"This is Martin's night, Ben, and yes, your night, and it's the show's night..."

"I know it is, and I'm sure he's going to win, and I'm hoping the show wins, and it's...it's just time people knew. Better that, than me kissing him full on, right on TV when he wins! Or when I win....or when Sherlock wins!!"

Mark all but rolled his eyes as a sigh escaped his lips. "You are incorrigible!"

"I've been told as much!"

 

"And the nominees for Best Supporting Actor are...."

"Brendan Coyle for Downton Abbey..."

"Martin Freeman for Sherlock..."

"Johnny Harris for This is England '86..."

"And Robert Sheehan for Misfits!"

"What an amazing array of talent and these gents are all considered supporting actors!"

"Yes, and I certainly am glad I didn't have to try to select just one of them to win this award.  Speaking of winning, please do the honors."

"All right, here's the envelope...and....the winner for Best Supporting Actor goes to.....Martin Freeman...Sherlock!"

Martin sat frozen, not breathing, only blinking...once...twice.  Everyone around him was standing, Ben was tugging on his arm, saying something about get up to the stage in case they changed their minds.  Finally getting to his feet seemed to break the spell of disbelief, and Martin hugged everyone seated around him. As he slid past a beaming and applauding Ben, their eyes met, and this time it was his turn to give Ben a rakish wink.

 

  
"How did you know?"

"I didn't, I just...I just had faith in you." Ben downed the last gulp of his brandy and then ran his long fingers through the condensation on the outside of the glass.  "So, Mr. Winner..."

"You should have won too!"

"It would have been nice, but the show itself won, that's huge. Now don't change the subject, I'm trying to tell you how proud I am of you." Ben slid his arm around Martin's shoulders and pulled him closer, and when Martin relaxed against him, Ben planted a kiss in his hair. "Look at you....from setlock to on the set to...up on the stage!"

A loopy smile spread across Martin's face and he turned his head so he could look at Ben. "You know, I was pretty much thinking the same thing earlier this evening. It's all because of you, Ben. Now shut up and kiss me, you git!"  


End file.
